


the space between

by simplycarryon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, also sort of floaty spoilers for everything idk, just send me the bill for the repairs to the fourth wall, spoilers for the pacifist ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4885426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplycarryon/pseuds/simplycarryon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You ruminate on memories preserved between the fault lines of resets, and wonder at the uneasy companionship you've come to find acceptable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the space between

**Author's Note:**

> in which Frisk and Chara come perilously close to breaking the fourth wall, and the author ponders her own agency in a game that's broken her heart more than once.
> 
> general spoilers for the best and worst endings.

It’s the vines that kill you, this time. 

It takes you a minute to realize that the unholy screech of absolute fury is coming from Chara, and isn’t actually some leftover echo of Flowey cackling in your ear.

“I’LL KILL HIM!” they scream, floating with you in the empty black space of what you’ve come to assume is your collective near-death consciousness. “I’LL PICK HIS STUPID PETALS OFF ONE BY ONE AND FEED THEM TO HIM, AND THEN I’LL CARVE HIS PLEADING WEEPY EYES RIGHT OUT OF HIS FACE—“ 

You watch them kick angrily at nothing, flailing their feet as if to kick the heads off a lot of knee-high flowers at once.

“Must be frustrating,” you offer, drifting a little closer once their fury seems reasonably spent.

“ _God_ , yes,” Chara snaps, floating upside-down in the aftermath of their tantrum, arms crossed angrily over their chest. “Let me take the wheel on this next try. I’m better at dodging than you are.”

You must look as incredulous as you feel, because they raise their hands, in a gesture that might be placating from anyone else. “Don’t worry about your happy ending. I wouldn’t take that from you at this point.”

“Really?”

“Sure,” Chara says, their shrug apathetic. “We both know what happens when you win. You get to save Asriel, you get to leave the underground, you get your happily ever after. Sometimes you even get to pretend you have a home with the old lady. And then, one day—poof! Back to the beginning for the both of us.”

“If you would just stop resetting things—“

Chara laughs in bright-eyed desperation. “It’s not me! Trust me, if I were the one sending everything back to the beginning, I’d do it the second you decide to let someone in this crummy world keep on breathing. Or… not breathing, I guess, I’ve never bothered to check if those skeletons do or not.”

You stare at them, then, eyeing their expression for any sign of dishonesty. Chara’s good at hiding things, you know that much, but you have to admit you’ve never heard them accept that they might not be as in control of things as you’d thought.

“So if it isn’t you, then…?”

Another shrug, this time even more apathetic. “I thought it was you, at first. I thought maybe you got some sick sense of satisfaction out of making friends with everyone over and over again. And then I realized it couldn’t be you. You’re just… too nice. Even if you did get your kicks out of lousy friendship sidequests, you’d never make your friends suffer through all this over and over again.”

“Friendship isn’t so bad,” you offer, smiling just a tiny bit as they wave a hand as if to disperse the suggestion. “So you think there’s someone else out there with more determination than either of us?”

“Nobody in the underground,” Chara says, finally twisting in place to float upright again. “It still happens even after I kill everyone. I’ve tried wiping this miserable world out of existence, and I still wake up here, backseat driver in the Mercymobile.”

The utter revulsion in their voice makes you snort.

“I’d let you ride shotgun if you weren’t so intent on driving,” you reply, trying not to sound like you’re about to laugh. Chara perks up at the idea, though, chewing idly on a strand of hair as they think it over.

“Here’s an idea,” they suggest, after a few moments of thought. “Maybe after the next reset, you could take the right side, and I’ll take the left?”

You briefly entertain the chaos that would ensue if each of you had control over half of your body, and then shake your head. “You’d stab everyone I tried to hug.”

“Stabbing is like saying ‘I love you’ but with knives,” Chara offers flatly, shaking their hands out as if to rid themself of the sensation of pins and needles; you can feel a similar tingling in your own fingers, the first sign of a return to consciousness. “Hey, Frisk. C’mon. You need a break, I can tell you’re getting tired of fighting.”

They offer you a hand, scarred and callused from god knows what.

It’s against your better judgment to ever _willingly_ let Chara be in control any more; previous incidents that you can remember involve death. Usually other people’s. Sometimes yours. Chara has little concern for your well-being, pushing you to impossible feats through injury and weakness. But if neither one of you is really in control of the timeline, in the end…

“Come _on_ , Frisk,” they urge again, as your heartbeat picks up. “Let me have a shot at this one. I’ll put that flower in the ground. Metaphorically.” 

You nod and take their hand, letting them settle comfortably in your mind while Flowey cackles hideously above you both. Maybe their determination will get you further than yours does, today.


End file.
